ONESIMUS:
I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment. Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful both to you and to me. . . . If he has wronged you in any way or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand: I will repay it. (Philemon 10:18–19, NRSV)
I work with new Hispanic/Latino immigrants to the USA. Once, I too, was an immigrant, for we came over when I was nine years of age. Now I am a clergyman; now I have returned to my young roots; now I work with people, most of whom are illegal and unsanctioned immigrants; now I am a citizen. Many have doubts about the work that the Church does with these aliens, legitimate doubts. How can we start churches among those who are illegal? Are we not helping them to break the law? I can understand temporary works of charity and mercy, but have we not gone too far in the amount of help we give them? Should we not tell them to return? To summarize their questions, “What is our ethical base for the significant help we are giving them?”
It is a very good perspicacious question. St. Paul the Apostle faced the very same questions when an escaped slave called Onesimus met him. We do not know how Onesimus arrived in Rome, where Paul was. We do not know his background, his race, or how he became a slave or whether he was born into slavery. We do not know why he ran away. We neither know whether Philemon was a good master or an evil one. That is, other than the fact of slavery, we have no other basis on which to draw a moral judgement on Philemon’s treatment of Onesimus. If anything Paul’s punning comment on Onesimus’ name, “Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful both to you and to me,” (Philemon 11) could be seen as a critique of Onesimus not of Philemon who is called a “co-worker”of Paul.
What we do know is that an escaped slave and Paul met each other. And we do know that Roman law permitted Philemon to have Onesimus put to death upon his capture, and death on the cross at that. We also know that, by harboring an escaped slave, Paul was also subject to severe penalties, although as a Roman citizen it would not necessarily have been the death penalty. This is a situation similar to that faced by illegal immigrants and those who work with them, but without any danger of the death penalty.
Paul’s letter to Philemon, gives us the answers we need to understand our relationship to the illegal immigrants among us. It is short but it harkens back to a tradition of sanctuary, of the Cities of Refuge, that connects the state-based religion of the Old Testament to the outside-the-state faith of the New Testament.
While the original intent of sanctuary seems to be only to protect those involved in unplanned murder, the tradition of the Cities of Refuge quickly expands to include other crimes. Within two to four hundred years, during the time of transition to the Davidic monarchy, the temple is itself involved in giving sanctuary to someone charged with treason rather than murder and during the Solomonic monarchy there are two instances of the altar itself being involved in the process of sanctuary.
The first instance is the famous case, cited by Jesus himself, of David fleeing Saul. Not only was David able to find refuge in the temple, he is even fed from the temple food, which is technically illegal, and given supplies by the priests. When King Saul passes through, the priests admit helping David, and appear to try to calm the king down and to mediate the dispute. Their reward was the same that some others have received in such circumstances, which is martyrdom.
The second instance is interesting in that this is clearly a case of sanctuary, not associated with murder in which the person seeks sanctuary and is successful in receiving mercy from the king.
Adonijah, fearing Solomon, got up and went to grasp the horns of the altar. Solomon was informed, “Adonijah is afraid of King Solomon; see, he has laid hold of the horns of the altar, saying, ‘Let King Solomon swear to me first that he will not kill his servant with the sword.’” So Solomon responded, “If he proves to be a worthy man, not one of his hairs shall fall to the ground; but if wickedness is found in him, he shall die.” Then King Solomon sent to have him brought down from the altar. He came to do obeisance to King Solomon; and Solomon said to him, “Go home.” (1 Kings 1:50–53)
But neither Paul nor I are in cultures that recognize the right of the People of God to give sanctuary. How did Paul apply the idea of sanctuary to a Church in an outside-the-state situation? Let me give a concrete example. Two months ago, a 22-year-old Latino youth was shot to death during a robbery by three African-Americans in a neighborhood that contains some of my parish members. This neighborhood is a transitional neighborhood that is increasingly populated by new Latino immigrants, which means mostly illegal ones. It is a decaying World War II neighborhood and a warren of one way, one-car wide streets. Many of the illegal residents fear the police because they have received many tickets for driving without a legal license. As a result of the murder and ongoing robberies, as a result of a white drug gang moving into the area because they know that the illegal Latinos will not call the police, tensions in the neighborhood are rapidly rising.
I officiated the funeral of the murdered young man. What is my role in such a situation? Am I to simply give comfort to the bereaved and urge people to return to Mexico or Guatemala? Or do I have a Pauline role to fulfill in this situation?
First, to Philemon, Paul insists that he has authority in the matter:
For this reason, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love—and I, Paul, do this as an old man, and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. . . . but I preferred to do nothing without your consent, in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced. . . . Confident of your obedience, I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say. (Philemon 8, 9, 14)
It has been argued that the duty that Philemon has is a strictly Christian duty, unconcerned with the state. But twice Paul refers to himself as, “a prisoner of Christ Jesus.” I do not believe that this was merely a ploy for pity. Rather, he is making the point that even though he is a prisoner of the State, God has both authority and voice in the matter. That is, there is no strict separation between secular and sacred as is common today. In the same way, Paul’s assertion of authority to Philemon may be that of God’s authority, but it is also an assertion that God’s authority can speak to the State just as sanctuary is preeminent over the avenger of blood.
This assertion does not mean that the Church has the right to govern the State, or to veto any State law that it wishes. These are circumscribed situations in which the State has the right to make its own laws, but the Church deals in mercy and assures that there is fairness and appropriateness in the process, to the point of helping to mediate change in the situation if necessary, and to render aid and comfort to those involved until the matter in question is worked through.
Second, Paul’s punning comment was that Onesimus was “useless” before but is “useful” now. From Paul’s comment about being Onesimus’ “father” through this comment, it appears that Paul kept Onesimus with him long enough to provide the counseling, training, and catechism necessary to bring about significant changes in the life of this man. Paul apparently did not find it necessary to send Onesimus back immediately, or to turn him in to the Roman authorities, even though Onesimus was actively breaking the law by continuing to exist as an escaped slave.
It is also clear that Paul, who was under house arrest, imperiled himself by having an escaped slave present with him, despite the regular presence of the praetorian guard. “When we came into Rome, Paul was allowed to live by himself, with the soldier who was guarding him.” (Acts 28:16) This is a type of civil disobedience that could have had serious consequences for him, but the Church’s role in sanctuary needed to be carried out.
Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord. So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. (Philemon 15–17)
Note that he insists that this reception as no longer a slave but a brother is to be both in the flesh and in the Lord. That is, Onesimus is to be set free and maybe even a way found for him to have citizenship rights, although it is not clear in the text whether Onesimus is to be merely a freeman or also a full citizen. The mediating word that Paul is giving to Philemon applies not only to spiritual matters (“in the Lord”) but also to state-related physical matters (“in the flesh”). Though I cannot prove it, I suspect that Onesimus would not have been sent back without some prior contact or at least some assurance that the mediated settlement would be accepted by him who had a right to bring the weight of the state to bear on Onesimus.
Fourth, Paul treats both sides with love and respect, and without threats. If Onesimus is called a “son,” Philemon is called a “dear friend.” If Onesimus has been “of service” to Paul, Paul tells Philemon that he has “received much joy and encouragement from your love.” Even the assertion of authority over Philemon in this secular matter is couched in careful words of caring. That is, there are no signs here that Paul condemns, or leads demonstrations, or engages in violence, to use modern terminology. Nowhere here is found the liberation theology dichotomy between oppressed and oppressor, between a preferential option for the poor and the disdained rich. Rather all are equally wrapped in the reconciling love of the Father, and are treated that way.
Fifth, Paul is willing to have the Church pay a costly price as part of its mediation. “If he has wronged you in any way or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand: I will repay it.” (Philemon 19) The mediation in which Paul has been involved is not a neutral non costly arbitration, but an active involvement which is willing to even use its own resources as part of the price of a resolution which will lead to the lifting of sanctuary.
At the funeral of the 22-year-old I was struck by the need to do something. I am convinced that the Holy Spirit led me to announce to the congregation that we were to begin a “Neighborhood Watch” program in that neighborhood. I had no idea what to do or how to do it, but I began to make contacts. And so the first Spanish-speaking Neighborhood Watch program in the history of the City of Birmingham, Alabama, is now beginning.
We have had public meetings at which many illegal aliens have had the opportunity to talk to the Chief of Police, to representatives from the mayor’s office, to the precinct captain and his officers, and some have even met the mayor. The city is quite aware that I work with illegal aliens and that not only do I know who they are but that I will not turn them in. At the same time, I am proud to say that the policemen in that precinct and the officials of the city consider me their friend. One of my proudest moments recently was when I introduced myself to a young police officer and he said that he had heard of me and that I was a friend. He expressed his concerns to me asking that I communicate them to that neighborhood community. The Father’s love is flowing.
The role of the Church in that neighborhood is just beginning. We have just had our first outdoor worship service, in an empty lot near where that young adult was shot. We are not demonstrating or making a stand, we were worshiping God and dedicating the neighborhood to him, to the Virgin of Guadalupe, and to St. Joan of Arc. We are hoping to start some youth programs. We are still at beginnings, but I have striven to follow the principles I outlined above, and am trying to follow them in the church within which I work.
First, I have chosen to, in the name of God and his Church, to give sanctuary to these illegal aliens among us, even though they are actively breaking the law by being among us. Second, I am trying to help provide, bring in, connect my people, with programs that will allow them to have the tools necessary to live a productive life, even if they should have to return to their country of origin. These include everything from the preaching of the Gospel, to catechizing in the Christian life, to English as a Second Language, to helping people to finish high school or get other training. Third, I am attempting to mediate various “solutions” between the State and those under sanctuary. Someday I will need to help tackle more comprehensive national solutions, but I am not ready for that now. Someday I may need to say to them that the time has come to return to their country of origin, or to welcome them as my brother citizens, depending on the solution mediated. Fourth, I think the Mennonites, Brethren, etc., are correct in insisting that both sides must be addressed in the Father’s love. Neither physical nor verbal violence are appropriate responses to the current situation in the USA with regard to illegal immigration. I think The Rev. Martin Luther King would heartily agree with that approach. Fifth, I am fortunate to work for a denomination that is indeed putting its resources into Hispanic ministry. They are committed to the costly path.
In the USA we are currently in the midst of a national debate with regards to immigration policy. Unfortunately, most of the verbiage that has been used in the Church has either been that of unthinking liberation theology, pitting class against class, or that of the law above all, which gives no role for the Church in the current discussion other than that of blindly supporting the State, with only minimal acts of mercy allowed. Our own church members are confused as to what their response should be, since most of them are law-abiding people.
The approach of liberation theology has been tried before in the sanctuary movement of the 1980’s. However that movement foundered for a couple of reasons. One reason was the weight of having to justify almost any illegal immigration under the rubric of oppressed people who are owed by a country which has been oppressing them, the USA. That is this theology depends on the innocence of those being helped, which is actually somewhat contrary to biblical sanctuary, which assumed an at-least-partial guilt of those being given refuge. A second reason is that some of the immigrants that came here at that time were actually conservative immigrants fleeing leftist governments or guerillas. The result of espousing a liberation theology model was that these people were denied the help of the sanctuary movement, on several occasions. This lost them the support on which they depended for their work. It was an adversary movement that guaranteed that the government would step in, since no mediation was tried.
The sanctuary theology that I have outlined would also be a model that could be used by those working with prostitutes, or drug abusers, or other criminals. It is not limited to illegal immigrants but could be applied to any of several classes of people actively breaking the law by the churches working with them. Is there a limit to sanctuary theology? Yes, the Cities of Refuge were forbidden to those who had deliberately killed someone. The second incident of sanctuary in King Solomon’s time resulted in the offender being dragged from the temple to be put to death, with no objection on the part of the priests of the temple. That person did not qualify for sanctuary. Similarly, I would suggest that those involved in certain crimes would be outside of the Church’s sanctuary protection and might even need to be actively turned in to the police. Should I come across information about any drug dealers active in the neighborhood with which I work, I will certainly and quickly turn them in to the police, with no sanctuary given.
But more importantly, the sanctuary theology I am following makes it possible for me to have an active involvement with illegal aliens, to have an active involvement to the State authorities, and to explain to those who ask what my ethical base is for not turning in illegal aliens, and for working with them with more than just the preaching of the Gospel and simple works of mercy. It also allows me to be faithful to Scripture and yet give out the love of the Father to all who are involved, regardless of their involvement in the process.
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